Under The Sea
The picture must have been here for years. Layers of dust are an ugly gray filter for the bright shine of the oil paint. The golden, decorated frame tells a story itself. A story of the generations it has been passed. A tale of hands it has been given to. No one could say if the picture was newer or older than the frame. Or if it even belonged together.
I watched the image for a long while, I was catched by the dark shiny colors of red, green, and blue. My eyes soaked in the sea, the waves and the sun vanishing in the sky, while I heard these sounds myself in this old, decaying house next to the beach where image was placed.
Therefore I tried to save this moment forever and drew a picture of the scene.